In A Kingdom Far, Far Away
by Regency
Summary: Jed proposed to Abbey and she said yes.
1. The Story Begins

Author: Regency

Title: In A Kingdom Far, Far Away

Series: Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc

Spoilers: _Pre-administration, no spoilers yet._

Pairing: Abbey/Jed; Abbey/Daniel Rawston

Rating: PG-13 for brief scenes of domestic violence and implied non-consensual sex.

Summary: At a routine interview, Abbey is faced with the man she fled the country to escape nearly forty years ago. _"In A Kingdom Far, Far Away"_ will entail the story of Abbey Barrington, her relationship with and escape from Daniel Rawston, and her early life with her unintended husband, Jed Bartlet.

Author's Notes: Forgive how I portray the people in Abbey's life. You may not agree, but go along with it.

_wwww_

Abbey casually crossed her legs and chuckled wryly and the show host's pathetic attempt at a joke that was supposed to be funny. She was so used to this that she could all but do it with her eyes closed. She'd been invited to talk about the roles of wives in the media, but had, as usual, ended up talking about Jed. She really didn't mind, but she wasn't certain what more they were expecting to get from her about what he wore to bed. She almost said 'nothing', but decided not to try her luck.

She discreetly checked her watch and found that there was about half an hour left for the interview. She didn't think they'd missed anything.

"So, Mrs. Bartlet," she flipped her hair back. "We think it's time to see the other side of wives in the press." Abbey lifted an eyebrow in chagrin. She didn't even think they'd seen the first side.

"Okay."

"We couldn't get the President, but we did manage to get a hold of someone you might know. Let us welcome the Senator from Indiana, Daniel Rawston." In that moment, Abbey tensed in her seat with her eyes fixed ahead and her back ramrod straight in fear.

She was never supposed to see him or hear his voice or even have to be in the same room with him again. She'd taken pains to remove him from her life, to escape his inescapable grasp. But here he was and there they were.

It was like being sixteen all over again.

_wwww_

It was the fall of 1967 and Abigail Barrington was sixteen going on seventeen years old. She was an A student on the fast track to Harvard. Not that her daily life was so easy. Neither of her parents wanted her to go all the way to Cambridge, Massachusetts to get a degree she wouldn't even get to use.

You see, her father was old-fashioned. He believed that a woman's place was in the home with the children. His daughter constantly stymied him with her determination to be independent and outgoing. She didn't want to be just someone's wife. She craved the letters _M.D._ to be at the end of her name. He couldn't understand that. He wouldn't understand that. And her mother was no help. She was the type of woman Abbey's father wanted her to be. The silent, supportive wife that knew her place in the world.

Abbey knew her place, too, and it wasn't behind any man. That wasn't her personality. Nonetheless, when her father introduced her to the son of an associate, Daniel Rawston, she went along with it. She was fifteen then. He was older, somewhat attractive, and was nice enough. She didn't have a boyfriend at the time and he was interested. They went out for a few weeks before he started calling her as his girlfriend. She wasn't fond of labels, but didn't make a fuss about it.

His attitude towards her remained stable for the next year and a half, until he proposed to her on their second anniversary. Before he'd been proper and debonair. Afterwards, he became quite the opposite. He became cruel and hurtful.

She wasn't legal yet, but her father was prepared to sign whatever was needed to make her a wife as soon as possible. Abbey wasn't in love with the man, but if it would get her father off her back, she was prepared to do anything. Besides, being married couldn't be that bad seeing as they'd both be too busy working all the time and would probably not see each other very much.

Abbey thought this until Daniel failed to enter Harvard that year. She was with him when he read the rejection letter. He was shocked. He had thought that his transcript had all but assured him entry. Then, he got angry. And it was all directed at Abbey…

Abbey jumped backwards as he swept their glass tumblers off the table with an angry roar. She'd never seen him that angry. He stalked towards her menacingly. She backed away full of fear, instinctively shielding herself from the blow she felt coming. She whimpered as she met a wall, trapping her onto his warpath. She sobbed as his fist slammed towards her and squeezed her eyes shut against the imminent pain. That time none came, but the wall beside her exploded.

She covered her ears and slid down the wall with tears coursing down her cheeks. She begged him not to hurt her. She gave up more of herself that day than on any to date. Her terror brought him back to himself and he took her into his arms and begged her forgiveness. She was so desperate for him to be who he had been that she let him hold her and tried to forget the monster who'd almost hurt her only moments before. That was his shot across the bow, the only warning she'd get. If she'd only had the wisdom to heed it then.

Unfortunately, Abbey didn't live in a time of American heroes. But lucky for her, she did live in the time of Jed Bartlet.

_wwww_

This story really began with a young college student by the name of Josiah Bartlet. At nineteen, he was also an A student with expectations riding high from every direction. Jed, as he was better known, had no idea what he wanted to do. He had been accepted into the London School of Economics, which was nothing to laugh at. But a part of him, the part that his faith called to so intrinsically, pushed him to the priesthood. Pushed him to serve his God purely and singularly with nothing above that service.

Therein laid his dilemma. He yearned to serve the People as well. All of the people. The people of his state, of his country, of his world. He needed desperately to lead them. He had always been a leader, never going unnoticed in a full room, never staying silent when there was an opinion to be voiced. He did more than speak, he orated. His words could be like a salve upon the deepest of all wounds. His voice was as tender as any caress. He was the lover, the leader that those who had yet to know him dreamed of. He was his own best dream.

This day, Jed was to accompany is his younger brother, Johnny to Indiana to visit a friend. Jed may have been the Golden son, but Johnny was the baby. While there, Jed planned to make his final decision about his plans for the coming spring.

As he and Johnny drove to the tunes of John Denver, Jed was certain that he'd made up his mind. God had served him well in his short life. It was only fair that he served Him in return.

He and his brother took turns driving the more than a thousand-mile journey between Manchester and Terre Haute, Indiana. His mother had insisted they fly, but their father hadn't been willing to foot the bill of two round-trip plane tickets when there was a possibility that Jed wasn't coming back anyway. Jed had ended the argument by just agreeing to drive to Indiana. He had the good sense God gave a fire ant to go along with his father on this one.

Jed juggled his banana and his glass Coke bottle while trying not to swerve too badly all over the road. Johnny rolled his eyes at his klutz of a brother and snagged the Coke bottle from his lips.

"Give me that before you kill us both and someone has to explain it to mom. Oh, yes ma'am, your sons were killed because your older son was idiotically drinking and eating while attempting to drive, albeit quite badly." Jed was playfully appalled.

"I am a wonderful driver, Johnny."

"Sure you are, big brother. You had three crashes the first year after you got your license."

"Those were not my fault, Jonathan."

"Whatever you say, Jed. It was totally your bad. You were singing with the radio and you got so into it that you weren't paying attention. There was a red light, another car, and your eyes were closed."

"Crap. He should've been watching where he was going."

"It was his green light." Jed shrugged bashfully.

"Still!"

"Oh, whatever, Jed." He tossed back his brother's coke and merrily evaded all of his attempts to retrieve it. "For the love of God, both hands on the wheel, man. You're crazy."

"Not crazy, just your brother."

"Because that really makes you immune to insanity." Jed got a mischievous twinkle that worried his brother. He pulled to the side of the road and gave his brother the noogie of a lifetime.

"Ah, no, no. I'm telling mom." Jed chuckled villainously.

"She's too far away to hear you scream." He tickled him under his ribs and grinned as tears coursed down his brother's face. "No one can hear you scream."

"Stop it, stop it. Make it stop." The car rocked as Johnny tried in vain to get away from his troublesome sibling. Neither of them heard the siren as the police cruiser pulled up behind them. They did however hear the tapping on Jed's driver side window. They untangled themselves and Jed rolled down the window.

"Good afternoon, officer."

"Good afternoon, son." Jed hated to be called son, but put on his most diplomatic smile and persevered. "Can I see your driver's license and registration, please?"

"Yes, sir. Johnny, look in the glove compartment. The registration should be in there." Johnny dug around and handed it to Jed. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his ID. "Here you go, sir." He looked it over suspiciously.

"You boys aren't from around here, are you?"

"No, sir."

"I can tell. Look, I don't know where you boys are from or how things are down there, but here we keep our business indoors." Jed and Johnny immediately understood the implication of his statement.

"No, no, we're not" He held up an old, callused hand.

"Hey, I don't like to pry."

"No, we're not"

"What you do with your life is your business." Jed just waved Jonathan off, already seeing the futility of this argument.

"Thank you, sir. We'll keep it inside, officer."

"Thank you and welcome to Terra Haute."

"Thank you and goodbye." The patrol car rolled slowly past them and disappeared down the long road. Both brothers slid to the floor in reddened puddles of laughter and humiliation.

"I can't believe he thought that we," John pointed between them. "Were…" They both cringed and shivered in revulsion.

"You are really not my type."

"You're not even close." They snickered before pulling back onto the road and continuing on into town.

_wwww_

Abbey shakily cut the sandwiches to the tune of the boys cheering on Michigan in their never-ending battle with Notre Dame's Fighting Irish in the living room. She nudged a dark curl behind her ear and tried the cut the cucumbers just so for Daniel. He was very particular about them being only so thick. He complained that the wide slices hurt his teeth. He tried to play strong, but he was so weak. She was even stronger than he, but had no escape after such a battle. She hissed as her knife slipped and she sliced her index finger open.

"Damn it!" She knew better, but stuck her finger in her mouth anyway. She was immediately overcome by the metallic taste of blood that flooded her tongue. She gagged and pulled her finger out.

"Are you all right?" She gasped and twisted around to see a bashful Josiah Bartlet standing in her kitchen.

"What?"

"I asked if you were all right." Her silence made him nervous and he started to make excuses. "I heard you swear from out there and I thought that something might've been wrong. I thought you might've hurt yourself and I wanted to check on you, because you've taken such good care of us this afternoon." Abbey only understood every third word out of his mouth, but smiled at his edginess.

"Thank you, I'm fine. I just cut my finger here." His apprehension melted away into genuine concern. He took her hand tenderly.

"Ouch, that looks pretty bad. Do you have a first aid kit in here?"

"Yeah, in that drawer over there." He retrieved it and opened it to pull out a bottle of alcohol and a cotton swab. She flinched at the sight of them, because she knew them far too well. He saw her flinch and mistook her known fear for a common one.

"Alcohol does burn, doesn't it?" She shook out of her memory and nodded as he doctored on her hand. He wrapped her finger in a band-aid tightly, but softly and kissed it chivalrously. "Better?"

"Better." He held her hand for a moment longer than necessary before letting go and stepping away. They shared a small smile. "Thank you…Jed, is it?"

"Yes, Jed."

"I'm sorry we didn't get to talk earlier."

"It's all right. You were entertaining us. I can't expect you to bring us food and conversation at the same time. We do have to do some things for ourselves." He stared into her eyes for a moment before realizing he was doing it and looking away. "So you're making lunch?"

"Yes. Sandwiches."

"Would you like some help? I'm not much with a stove, but I'm a master with a butter knife." She grinned and handed it over.

"I'd like that." Their hands touched for a moment and they smiled at one another again.

"Abbey, where's lunch? The boys and I are starving." Abbey's smile fled and she pulled away from Jed, dropping her face down. He saw sadness in her eyes that broke his heart. He stood beside her and started his task, but paused to look at her again.

"He doesn't treat you very well, does he?" She didn't raise her eyes from her work, but was quick to play ignorant.

"What?"

"You heard me. He doesn't treat you very well at all. He treats you like his maid. I can already see that. And you're not even married yet. What's he going to treat you like when you are married? And when he's working and you're pregnant? Is he going to treat you like this then, too?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about. And either way, it's none of your business. This isn't your house."

"It's not yours either."

"I spend a lot of time here. His parents like me."

"They like you?"

"Yes."

"I think you and I both know what a joke that is. You can leave here; you don't have to stay. Why do this to yourself? You're not even happy."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. It's in your eyes. Right there for the whole world to see in your beautiful green eyes. Why do you deny it's there?"

"Because I have nowhere to go. This is it."

"Don't you have a dream?"

"I want to be a doctor, so badly." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "My parents think I'm crazy. My father won't pay for it. I want to go to Harvard."

"With Daniel?" She shook her head. "Then, go."

"I can't. I have two years until I graduate. Two years. What until then? What?"

"Abigail, for the last time, bring lunch or we'll have to go out and eat." She tucked another lock behind her ear and gathered the plates on a tray.

"Coming, Daniel." She placed a pitcher of lemonade on another tray with glasses. "Instead of judging me, maybe you should help me take lunch out." He caught her by the elbow and tilted his head towards the tray she'd left behind.

"I don't think they're going to want lemonade. Do you have any beer?"

"Yeah, in the fridge."

"Go ahead and take that out. I'll bring this."

"Okay." She backed out of the kitchen through the swinging door.

Jed shook his head sadly, asking himself, 'Why did it seem that only sons of bitches were granted God's gifts of angels?'

Only Jed was about to learn that that wasn't always true.


	2. When God Made Eve

**Chapter 2**

Abbey tiredly gathered up what remained of the garbage the boys had left in the living room. Jed had been kind enough to pick up most of it before he'd left a few hours earlier. He'd been kind enough to do a lot things. He'd tried to save her from herself, he'd helped her take out lunch, and then he'd helped her clean up the mess. He was quite a find and Abbey couldn't help but wish that she'd met Jed first.

She chuckled dryly as she looked around and realized that there was nothing left to pick up. At least not trash. There were, however, pieces of Abigail strewn all over the place. There was the empty place where a French lamp had stood only a week ago before, having seen its end on the floor after being hurled at her head. There was a stray blouse button near the base of an overstuffed reclining chair that had lost its home after Daniel had forgotten what 'no' meant. Well, he hadn't forgotten what it meant; he'd simply forgotten to care. However, the scars weren't only on the furniture; the worst covered her.

An ugly burn marred the inside of her wrist. One evening, she'd made his broth too…something and he'd poured his steaming bowl over her hand as she tried in vain to squirm from his grasp. "Please, don't do this. Please. It hurts so much. Stop! I'll make it better next time, okay. I'll make it however you want. Please, stop hurting me, Daniel. Please." He'd finally succumbed to her pleas or, at the very least, had gotten annoyed with them and let her go.

She'd wrapped her wrist in a cold towel and had fled the house immediately. She'd gone home, straight to her mother's arms. Or at least to her blind denials. Always a blind denial. To her mother, and especially to her father, Daniel Arthur Rawston could do no wrong. "It was a misunderstanding," said her father. "Men need an outlet," said her mother. A bandage and a pat on the head was all she'd gotten before she'd been dropped back on his doorstep. He'd been waiting for her with his heavy knitted brow and the firm set of his jaw. She'd known she'd made a mistake from the moment she'd walked back through the door.

Following that wound was another burn on her side from an iron pot, a yellowing fist-shaped bruise that illustrated a recent blow to her ribs. She'd been in bed for a week with three cracked ribs and a concussion from her 'fall in the bathtub.' The worst, though, were the finger-shaped bruises that colored the outsides of her thighs. It made her sick when she thought of where they'd come from. The way he'd held her down, using her small stature against her, and pinned her arms above her head. The way he'd touched her, rubbing his large, hard hands over her sensitive breasts with no regard to her will.

She'd told him time and again that she wanted to save her virginity for when they married, but he'd been determined to have his way with her. She fought him so hard, but was no match for his four years of crew and basketball. He withstood her desperate attempts to stop him and shoved her skirt around her waist. She finally quit fighting and squeezed her eyes shut to try to block out was happening to her. She thought of ways to kill herself as he groped her in places she'd only intended to let one man touch her. Though deeply traumatized already, she was saved from ultimate violation by Daniel's own body. Apparently, she wasn't enough to give him a rise. He shouted at her in frustration. He'd shaken her and blamed her for his shortcomings. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to have her, but had been unable to perform. That was just one more item to add to his long list of failures. That didn't mean that he failed to get a perverse kind of pleasure out of assaulting her.

It was everyday, nonstop. He took every chance he got to make her cry out in pain, to make her whimper at his touch, to bring her to her knees. That was his substitute for sex; her pain meant his pleasure. She hated him so much, but could find no way out. She was in a bright, white room with no exit in sight and ever in every direction she turned, there was Daniel. He'd effectively cut her off from her friends. All she had was her family and they wouldn't believe her. They wouldn't protect her because she was too much outside of what a lady of the Barrington household was supposed to be. They would let this go on in hopes that enough of it would change her into the perfect subservient spouse. Then, she wouldn't have a word to say about what happened at home, because to quote her mother, "What happens between husband and wife should remain between husband and wife." That left her with only one option…To stay and wait to become Mrs. Daniel Rawston.

And with that admission went her every hope of ever being anything else.

_wwww_

Meanwhile, Jed sat in his hotel room and read his bible absently. That was unlike him. He'd read the Book from cover to cover, but never hesitated to read something again. He thought it was something a future priest should do; study the words that would become his life. At least, that was what he used to think. Suddenly, he wasn't certain of his future at all. He wasn't certain of anything.

Since he'd left Daniel Something-or-Other's home, he hadn't been able to get Abbey out of his head. At this point, he couldn't even focus on God without thinking of the scared, beautiful young girl. He wondered if when God created Eve, she was what he had in mind. Her name rolled off his tongue and her green eyes were emblazoned on his mind. He couldn't believe that there was no way to help her. He wouldn't believe that. He wasn't very big, but sometimes, even he had the heart of lion.

Unfortunately, that same heart had gotten him into trouble more than once before.


	3. Half The Battle

Warning: Adult situation; semi-graphic images of rape and abuse. You've been warned.

**Chapter 3**

When Abigail Ann Barrington was a little girl, she liked to run. She loved the feeling of the wind blowing her hair and stinging her eyes. Her legs weren't long or sinewy, but they were strong and they carried her quickly over any distance. When she ran she never got tired and she was little more than a blur to the world. When she was a little girl, she loved to run.

As she grew older, she ran out of time. That was the only time she ran. Her parents did not see running as an activity befitting any daughter of theirs. Her jumpers and tennis shoes were replaced by skirts and dress shoes. Suddenly, all anything was about was walking. Walking slowly so that everyone could see you. But Abbey didn't want to be seen. All she wanted to be was a blur. A blur that went unseen in a world she would never be a part of. Just a blur.

Abbey had just put up the last of the dishes when she kitchen door swung open to reveal her very pissed fiancé. She was beyond exhausted and all she could think of was her bed in the guest room just upstairs. She imagined that locked door with him on the other side of it. She was just so close.

"Daniel, I've done the dishes and cleaned up the living room. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. Please, don't fight with me right now." He seemed to deflate at that.

"I don't want to fight you, Abbey. I just want to love you. I want us to love each other." She'd already been suspicious when he'd bothered to see to her at all. But now, she was downright scared.

"What do you want, Daniel?" The way he trapped her between his body and the countertop was all the answer she needed. "Don't do this, please." He took her face into his hands and kissed her with deliberate gentleness. She wasn't moved or deceived. "Let me go." He finally gave up all pretense and yanked her close by her collar.

"Why should I?"

"Because I asked you to." He slid his hand up her chest to squeeze her neck.

"Why would that matter to me?" She flinched away from his tone.

"Because I'm your fiancée."

"Exactly, and that's almost my wife. Wives be subject to your husbands as to the Lord, for the husband is the head of the wife as Christ was the Head of the Church."

"How dare you use the Bible to justify how you treat me? You use God to Why? Why are you doing this to me? I've been good to you."

"But you haven't given me what I want most, Abigail." The glimmer in his eyes gave her the answer she feared. "That's right, Abbey. I will have your precious virginity, just like you promised."

"But we're not married yet," she answered meekly. She hated how weak she sounded when they spoke.

"Poor, Abbey." He held up her right hand mockingly. "I put this ring on your finger. You belong to me. I do whatever I like with my things."

"I am not a thing. I am a person with feeling and fears and love. Don't hurt me."

"Hmm." He seemed to thing her words over briefly. "No." He backhanded her so hard her neck snapped.

"Damn it."

"Oh, did that hurt, beautiful?" He rubbed his knuckles against her reddened cheek. Her 'fight or flight' reflex began to wind up in the back of her mind. She'd be damned if he was going to rape her. She'd be damned.

Her wrapped his long, thin fingers around her wrist and yanked her roughly out of the kitchen. He shoved her to the floor and started to unbuckle his pants. She crawled away from his, but he pulled her back by her ankles. He pinned her wrists to her side and forced her mouth to his. She bit his tongue. He swore and wiped the blood off with his sleeve. He backslapped her and her head slammed into the wooden floor. She cried out desperately, but his parents weren't home and they didn't have a neighbor for ten miles.

He forced her thighs apart with his knee and tugged her skirt up around her hips. She kept trying to get away. He dropped his full weight on top of her and shoved his forearm into her throat.

"If you don't do what I say, I will kill you and then I will still get what I want," he threatened harshly. "I will get what I want. You don't have to be alive for that." She trembled beneath him and ceased her struggle. Her vision blurred with tears. She squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could and turned her face away as she felt him pull her underwear down around her knees. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood and yelped as she felt a gut-wrenching ache between her legs. She clinched her fists so hard that they turned white as tiny half-moon welts materialized on her palms. She exhaled sharply as groaned on top of her and forced down bile as his hands explored her chest for old time sake.

And all the while, all she could think of was the one who tried to save her from all this. As Daniel seemed to get further and further excited by her lack of resistance, she thought of Jed's deep, rich voice and tender hands. Her back arched off the ground as another shard of pain scarred her. She finally cried out when it seemed like it would never end. That was all he needed. Another moment passed and he collapsed half on top of her, half on the floor.

He laid there on top of her quaking form for a while before rising. He stood over her and looked down hatefully.

"You're nothing, but trash, Abbey. Just trash. No one's going to want you now. Who would want some used up, scarred, empty girl like you? I don't even want you, but I've already agreed to marry you, so now I'm stuck. Great." He gave her a firm kick in the side as he buckled up his pants and tucked in his shirt. "God, you're dirty. Clean yourself up." He spit at her and walked away.

She tried to curl into the fetal position, but it hurt too much. She wept miserably as she sat up and tried to straighten out her clothes. She could see the new scars coming already. Her whole body felt battered. She sniffled as she pulled her underwear back up with a long wince. She held her ribs protectively as she shuffled towards the front door slowly. Every step was fire. It would have been so easy to just sit on the floor and cry. But she couldn't because if she did, that would become her life.

She stopped in fear as she heard him moving upstairs. Then, the shower started and she breathed in thanks. God was on her side. She started to move faster, ignoring the pain as best she could. Her angry palms slipped on the door knob. She had to wipe her palms on her skirt to get them dry enough the grasp the brass knob. She used both hands to turn it and slipped out the door carefully, shutting it lightly behind her.

With trepidation, she crept down the stairs and to the end of the curved driveway, all the way expecting to hear him calling for her or coming after. But she reached the end and there was nothing. No urgent, furious steps, no ugly names. Just the faint noise of the upstairs shower. She was so close to getting away. So close.

Suddenly, even the faint noise of the shower stopped. She whimpered as the reality in which she lived began to set in. If she didn't leave now, she'd never get away. So, she started to run. To run as far and as hard as she could. Because unexpectedly, she could remember how when she was a little girl, she loved to run.

However today, running wasn't about fun or childish play. Today, it was about survival. If she didn't run away, she'd never survive here.

She just had no idea where else she'd go.

_wwww_

Jed drove down the long road slowly, giving himself every opportunity to turn back. He knew he should've just minded his own business, but he couldn't simply abandon her with that man. Everything about him was dominant, too dominant. A man like him would crush someone like her. She didn't need a master, she needed a partner. In his mind, he hoped that maybe he could be that partner.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he nearly missed the sight of a small person crumpled on the side of the road. He braked as he pondered whether or not his eyes had deceived him. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a familiar hand extended onto the edge of the road. He hastily put the car in reverse and rolled back. He jumped out of the car and stumbled down into the ditch.

Her white button down blouse was dirty and grass-stained. Her floral skirt was dingy with various dark-colored spots. And her exposed legs and wrists were bruised. He noticed that her index finger had begun to bleed again.

He took her gingerly into his arms and lifted her from the ground. She cried out in terror. He just held her closer.

"Abbey, Abbey! It's Jed. I won't hurt you, honey. I won't ever hurt you. Just hold on, baby. I've got you." She murmured to herself incoherently. He sat her in the passenger seat and buckled her in. He took off his jacket and covered her. He paused as he realized how small she was. His jacket dwarfed her curled form. "That son of a bitch did this. I know he did."

He jogged back to his side and got in, swinging the car around. She had to see a doctor. He wished he could turn back time and take her with him back to his hotel room. She would've been safe there. She wouldn't have been hurt.

"Oh, Abbey." As she listened to him talk to her encouragingly, though he thought she was unconscious, she began to cry in earnest. She was finally somewhere safe. She was where she should've been. She clutched his jacket to her and took a deep breath. Even his scent was safe.

"You're all right. Don't worry." She nodded, for the first time believing that there might be some sanctuary to be found. "I won't let him hurt you again." She smiled, but winced at the twinge in her cheek.

She might be safe with him, but her scars were here to stay, and being safe was only half the battle. Getting away would mean the war.


	4. The Drs Katz

**Chapter 4**

Jed drove towards the hospital, sparing a prone Abbey increasingly pensive glances. She was so still that he had to restrain himself from reaching over to check her pulse. Eventually, he reached the end of his resolve.

"Abbey?" She didn't stir. "Sweetheart, are you awake?" She shifted painfully on the bench seat and unconsciously drifted closer to him. He took one hand from the wheel to wrap an arm around her. He brushed his lips softly across her brow, but halted as she cried out again. "Oh, honey, what did he do to you?" His jacket slipped from her slumped shoulders to reveal missing buttons and an angry bruise beginning to color her throat.

Rage and sorrow surged in his heart and for a moment, Jed saw red. Abbey, being only partly passed out, immediately sensed the change in him and jarred herself awake. Instinctively, she began to back away from him towards the passenger door, her chest heaving in a final exhaustion. She had run until she could no longer breathe and then she had run further still. She had collapsed in the ditch when her legs would carry her no farther. After that, she had crawled and prayed that she'd cover that precious distance after which Daniel wouldn't follow her.

She'd come so close to being found by him, excruciatingly close in fact. She could smell the exhaust from his car and the smoke from his expensive cigars drifting overhead as he drove nearby. Seeing her nowhere in the distance, he had thankfully turned back, cursing her with every passing mile. And then, Jed had come only seconds later to find her…and save her.

Remembering this, Abbey relaxed her tense body and released the door handle from her white-knuckled grasp. Jed was watching her with eyes like silver discs while trying vainly to keep observing the road in front of him. Her cheeks flamed in mortification. He had just rescued her and she had somehow managed to go completely postal on him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered awkwardly.

"No. Oh, no, don't apologize. Abbey, something awful happened to you today. You don't have to tell me what, but I do need to know if you're hurt." He looked her over again. "Well, that's a stupid question if I've ever asked one. I just--I need to get you help, okay? I'm taking you to the hospital, so that they can look you over."

"No, please, don't." She grabbed his arm in a vice grip. "They'll send me back."

"They'll call your parents and you can go home with them."

"I've done this before, Jed. They took me back. And he beat me. He beat me so badly I was in bed for a week. Then, he told people that I had fallen in the tub. They believe him, Jed. No matter what I say, they believe him. Please don't take me to the hospital." He exhaled worriedly and clinched his fists around the wheel as they hit a tight curve in the deserted road. "Please." A sob choked her words and she mutely entreated him to look at her so that he could see the depth of her despair. He turned his head and saw her framed in the dying sunlight. The auburn highlights of her hair shone against her glistening green eyes and he could see himself in the tears on her alabaster cheeks. It struck him then that he couldn't allow her to be surrendered to that monster's grasp again. He'd rather die than let that happen. Revenge had not gone cold in his eyes, but it had taken the backburner. His first priority was her safety. She had to feel safe again. And to feel safe she'd have to trust him.

"I know a doctor," he said, giving her a sideways look. "He works out of his home. He's a friend of my father, but more my friend than so. His wife--she's a doctor, as well. I might be able to get you in to see her if that's better." She nodded.

"What will you tell them?" He shrugged uncomfortably.

"I was going to tell them that you were my fiancée and that you'd had a fall, but I just realized that that won't work." She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled despite himself, but it faded when he realized his only reply. He cleared his throat. "Because, I think that the injuries you have never would've come from a fall…or from me. I won't tell them anything you don't want me to, but I think it's important that a doctor makes sure that you're all right. I know you're hurting in more than a few ways, but I want you be okay, you know, physically before you have to tackle anything else." He started to ramble again, feeling as though he was terribly botching up his attempt at compassion. She shook her head amusedly and took his hand that still rested across the back of the seat.

"Thank you, so much. You've shown more care and compassion to me than most have recently. I am grateful to have met you." She wrapped her small hand in his larger one. For some reason, the sight of their joined hands gave her hope. She laid her forehead on their fingers and thanked God.

_'Not as grateful as I am to have met you,' _he thought to himself. Everything seemed to come together then. His mission was to serve God, yes. But that wasn't his only mission. His mission had been set before him in the form of this woman. This woman who had stood in a life not of her own making filled with nothing, but hopelessness in place of love and no room for faith. No room for faith in anything, God nor people. He had given her something to believe in. His mission was to walk beside her in life, to accompany her through her trials and triumphs, to be her touchstone in all things.

But he could not be selfish. If it was not her wont to be with him, then he had to accept that. One cannot foist their destiny upon another. Though, it seemed that she'd been formed just for him. He longed to know her outside of this fear and exhaustion. He longed to know the woman who would, one day, graduate from Harvard at the top of her class. Who would, in time, bring into his world three little girls that he would forever love. Who would, one day, stand beside him as he was declared the President of the United States.

It is said that behind every strong man, there stands an even stronger woman. She had to be the one. She was stronger than a dozen Greek phalanxes.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have survived this far.

_II-II-II-II_

Abbey didn't realize that they arrived until the calming motion of the car had slowed to a stop. She awoke to find herself covered with Jed's jacket again and to find him watching her with an affectionate expression. She felt mysterious butterflies flutter in her belly and she dropped her eyes coyly.

"We're here." She looked out the windshield to see a large house laid out before her with scant few cars parked nearby. It was a tall house surrounded by acres of rolling hills on either side. It was intimidating to say the least. The very least.

"They work here?" He looked out his window at the house he'd been to more than once in his clumsy years.

"And live here. It's their house."

"A very big house."

"Indeed."

"You've been here before?"

"A few times." He flushed in remembrance. "I'm a bit of a klutz, to be honest." She snickered at an image of his riding his bike into a tree that bloomed in her mind just then. He tipped his head at her and memorized the way her nose wrinkled up when she laughed. Laughter looked so much prettier on her than fright.

"I thought you were from New Hampshire."

"I am. My father knows people here, so we come down every now and then."

"Oh." She fidgeted a little and waited for what came next. "They're good, you think?"

"They're good. Very nice people. They can barely stand my father, so that's saying something."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, don't…Not for my father. That's a good character choice on their part. They like me, so that shouldn't affect you badly."

"Okay." She looked around quietly.

"So, we can go in now unless you want to wait for a little while."

"Can we…" He reached for his door handle. "Wait for a little bit? Just a little." He let it go and settled back to wait. "I don't know what I'll say when they ask what happened. I'm sure they know Daniel's family. They won't believe me either."

"I think that you will be very surprised when you meet them. They are wonderful people. Give them a chance. You won't regret it, I promise."

"I guess." He pulled out the puppy eyes and that infamous bang of hair flopped onto his forehead despite the efforts of many hair gels. The figure he cut left her in stitches and she laughed until only the car door was holding her up. Not exactly the reaction he was looking for, but he could live with it. "Okay, I'll trust them. If you say they're good. I'll take your word for it. Happy?" He beamed and she shook her head ruefully. What a beautiful man.

"Are you ready now?" She nodded bravely. He smiled supportively at her and came around to let her out. He lent her a hand as she stood up and put an arm around her to hold her up when she staggered. It had been some time since she'd been on her feet. She settled into the embrace and allowed herself to be led slowly towards the intimidating manor.

Jed opened the door like a gentleman and allowed her to enter first. She stepped in and saw a girl about her age reading a magazine on a couch. The place was warm, comfortable, homey. She wouldn't be hurt here. She already knew that.

Still, she jumped when Jed placed a hand lightly on the small of her back to guide her to the front desk. She looked down warily, using her shoulders to conceal her battered face. The middle-aged woman behind the polished oak desk looked Abbey over knowingly. She'd seen girls like her. Girls on their last leg, with nothing left to lose. She also knew Jed, a kind young man with a soul of pure light. If one man was to be the template of all men, Josiah Bartlet would be that man.

"You need to see Dr. Katz?"

"Dr. E. Katz, please?" She looked up from the schedule book to see confirmation in her eyes.

"All right. Sweetheart, I am going to need your name for the medical records."

"Abbey." She leaned closer.

"Could you say that again? I can't hear you." Her eyes skittered from person to person.

"Abbey--Abigail. Abigail Ann Barrington." She wrote it down on a blank folder.

"Okay, Abbey." She picked up the phone and pressed the line for patient room one. "Dr. Katz, it's Emily. Jed has a friend here to see you. Yes, it does appear serious. Yes, it's that Jed. I'm sending her folder back with him. He can show her the way. All right. Thank you, Dr." She hung up the phone and handed the folder over. "Jed, could you show Abbey to patient room two? You remember where it is, don't you?"

"Of course, Mrs. Rich." She looked at him over her reading glasses.

"You know you don't have to call me Mrs. , Jed."

"Maybe, but it is a show of respect and you deserve nothing less." She rolled her eyes but waved him past her.

"Oh, go on. Charmer," she muttered as they passed.

"She loves me." She clung to his arm and nodded her ascent absently.

"Naturally." He led her down a short hallway, decorated with in a classic floral wallpaper with brass wall accents and mahogany hall tables. It didn't feel like any clinic or doctor's office she'd ever visited before. They came to a white door with a gold nameplate that said patient room two in bold black letters. He gave her the folder and waffled between remaining and going outside to wait. He checked his watch and shifted on his feet.

"I'm gonna go…you know, out there. I'll be here." He whistled and plodded sluggishly back the way they came.

She hesitated before calling after him. He turned back as though he'd been hoping she'd stop him and lingered. "Could you stay with me until the doctor comes?" He squelched his gladness at her asking him to stay and settled on a solemn and mature nod. He leaned on the wall behind him and reddened in embarrassment as a brass candy dish fell mutely from a side table to the antique runner on the floor, spilling its contents all over the place. So much for the dissolution of that damnable clumsiness.

"You are a little clumsy, huh?" She got down to help him pick up the mess while stifling her laughter. For a man so terribly adorable, she could definitely see him walking into a locked door. Someday, he'd be an incredible father. She looked forward to that day. She stopped dead in the face of such a startling notion. _'Why would I be there for that,'_ she inquired of herself. She had her whims, but could think of no answer she would admit out loud within the hearing of any living person, under pain of death. In spite of her circumstances, Abbey was a woman of pride and as such a woman, she wouldn't submit to being the stereotypical damsel in distress. Yes, he had come to her aid and yes, he was helping her now. However, by no means did that make it mandatory for her to fall in love with him.

His klutziness, his charm, that darling smile, not to mention the compassion that had brought them here. That alone . But his bumbling care sold her. As he haphazardly gathered the small, plastic-wrapped candies into his large hands, she came to the conclusion that she was in no state of mind to be in love. She could be gracious; she could be indebted, and God knows she was grateful. But she couldn't be in love.

Since Jed, like every man she'd ever known, had the capacity to let her down, had the capacity to hurt her. She'd be damned if she'd be hurt again. She would no longer stand for allowing life to happen to her; she had to happen to life. This was her strongest moment yet.

She snapped out of her troubled stupor and found that she had become the center of attention. Jed was eyeing her warily while notably keeping his hands in view. The tall woman in the white lab coat, who she assumed was Dr. E. Katz, seemed to be cataloguing her from head to toe, from her expression to the way she pressed her hand against her side guardedly as she began to rise. Abbey couldn't help but feel that this woman already had her pegged.

"Hi, Abbey."

She cleared her throat inelegantly. "Hi."

She held out a well-weathered, well-manicured hand. Abbey stared at it briefly before taking it and shaking it primly. The good doctor rewarded her with a soft and maternal smile that immediately put Abbey at ease.

"I'm Dr. Katz, Elizabeth Katz. I guess I'll be seeing you today."

"I guess." Jed lurked anxiously by the door to the waiting room, hoping to be dismissed since he could be of no real help now. This was Abbey's battle. A man could only help so much. Eventually faith did have to play a role.

Dr. Katz looked over Abbey to Jed and gave him a similar smile. "Jed, why don't you go see Neil? I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. I think I have it from here." He backed away uncertainly. "Go on, honey. You'll see Abbey later. I promise. You know me."

"Yeah, okay. Later." He inclined his chin towards her. "Later." She pursed her lips and tried not to look guilty.

"Later." He withdrew stiffly and shut the door behind him. A feeling of anxiety covered him in the like a death shroud. She said she'd see him later, but she hadn't looked him in the eyes when she'd said it. She had no one's poker face and the pitch of her voice was telling.

She said she'd see him later, but he wondered if he'd ever see her again. With a heavy heart, he thought, probably not. Suddenly, the Priesthood didn't seem like such a detestable idea. If he couldn't help her, maybe he could lend a hand or an ear to others like her. Though, contentment, now, seemed like little more than a distant flight of fancy, he knew that time would pass and hopefully the memory of this girl named Abigail would fade until she was just a pair of eyes that he'd never forget. And he _'never' _would forget them.

Yet, as he was greeted raucously by Dr. Neil Katz, he began to inwardly pray for right in whatever would come next. Only God would know. The future had seldom been more uncertain.

There was one thing, though, that he was certain of: Something was different. He was different…and he'd never be the same again.


	5. Everything He'll Be

**Chapter 5**

Jed had been asleep for well over an hour when there was a knock at the door. He groused and hid his head under the pillow. The knocking became louder and more insistent. He finally threw the pillow and the covers off and stalked to the door. He had literally just gone to sleep.

He yanked the door open, prepared to give whoever dared to wake him the tongue-lashing of their lives, but then he saw who it was and he could do nothing of the sort. Abbey stood before him, trembling and wet from head to toe. It had started raining out not too long ago, but she looked soaked to the bone.

"Abbey." She didn't respond, but only stood there shivering and looking nervously around her. She'd just gone on a desperate journey to find Jed after daring to return to that house. She'd felt brave and unstoppable. She had hoped beyond hope that her sudden burst of confidence would benefit her when she faced him again, but she was mistaken. Sadly so, in fact. Conviction was conquered by his superior size and the force of his fists.

The cut on her lip had been reopened and one of her eyes was black instead of green; the shirt she'd borrowed for the Katz's clinic was missing several buttons and failed to hide the new bruises on her chest. The ones beneath were not yet a day old.

"Abbey," he called to her again. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her lips moved to form words, but her throat was strained from having screamed so hard for so long.

"Help me," she exhaled hoarsely. "Please, help me." He waffled for a moment before stepping back to let her in.

"What happened to you?" She just shook her head and stood awkwardly in the middle of the hotel room he was supposed to be sharing with his brother. As she tightened her arms around herself, the hem of her blouse rose to show a brief expanse of normally pale skin. Instead it was mottled with ugly fist and heel marks. _Oh, Abbey_, he thought to himself.

She suddenly felt the need to explain herself. "I'm sorry I left the clinic without you. I just had to go back to that house…I had to end it. I had to give that ring back and take back my life. I had to do it." He held his hands up placatingly.

"It's okay. I knew that was gonna happen. I'm not offended. As a man, I was probably the last person you wanted to be anywhere near anyway." She shrugged with a tense smile. She still felt guilty.

"It's not even that, you know. You're good, Jed. I can tell that just by looking at you. You're good inside. Even the Drs. Katz said so. You were right, they are good people; trustworthy people. They took good care of me." Jed sent her a tightly satisfied smile.

"I'm glad to hear that." He looked her over discreetly, noting her shifty gaze and darkening skin.

"They also told me that you're their resident Good Samaritan. You're always bringing some lost soul to safety. They're drawn to you like a moth to flame." He looked away embarrassedly. "Or maybe like a shadow to the sun."

"Maybe." She looked to be in enormous pain, simply lingering there. "Do you want to sit?" he gestured towards the bed, but thinking better of it, pointed to a chair situated between the small twin beds.

"Mmm hmm. Thank you." She sat down, teeth chattering audibly now. That took no time to dawn on him.

"Oh, honey. You must be freezing. Let me get you something to wear." Speaking of getting her something, he noticed his own state of undress. No shirt and pajama bottoms. He felt the like the biggest jerk to ever live. "And me. Definitely me. Just wait here for a moment." He paid her weak protestations little mind and rifled through his armoire and luggage for something that might not completely drown her in fabric.

He 'aha'd' as he snagged a Notre Dame sweatshirt and a pair of clean boxer shorts. Held them up for her inspection. "These okay?" She nodded reluctantly, truly not wanting to be any trouble.

"Fine. Great, even." He raised an eyebrow blankly.

"Uh huh. Great. Yeah, no. I think these will be fine though." She accepted the clothes cautiously, waiting for him to change his mind at any moment. "Go ahead, I'm not gonna change my mind. You need them, I don't. You can change in the bathroom. It's right through there." He pointed his thumb to the cracked door over his shoulder. She responded positively, rising with the minor gifts hugged to her chest. "You can take a shower to if you like."

She paused to look at him, at an honest loss for words. "I don't have any…you know, with me. So…"she shrugged restlessly.

"Ah, yes. Well, I don't think I have any of that with me, but I can look." She snorted, but bit it back at the end. Her chest muscles spasmed terribly with the effort. She grunted and rubbed at her chest breathlessly. He stepped towards her in natural concern. "Abbey, you okay?" She nodded even as she wheezed dreadfully. "You don't sound okay."

"My chest," she gasped, "hurts."

"Were you hit there? Did he hit you there?" She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to admit how badly she had misjudged herself and her strength. "Abigail?" She couldn't deny him the truth after all he had done for her.

"He, um, yeah. He punched me here," she pointed to her sternum and solar plexus, achingly. "It hurts to breathe," she gasped. "I don't think anything's broken."

"When did he do this?"

"When I went back." He stepped back in obvious chagrin.

"You actually went back? Why? What for, Abbey?" She shrugged but gagged at the pain that immediately followed.

"I told you," she paused to breathe, "I had to end it. I had to get away for good. I said that the engagement was off, that I would go to Harvard without him." He reached out and steadied her by her shoulder. She wrenched away from the contact hastily, skin paling further still.

He gently retook her arm in his grasp and rolled up her sleeve to find it in varying stages of bruising. He reached for her other arm, but she held it behind her to prevent his seeing it. He only had to look at her sternly for her to acquiesce. The state of that arm was no better. He suspected that the rest of her was covered with much uglier, more extensive bruising, but he wouldn't push the issue. The upset was still too fresh.

He lifted her face up so that he could see her eyes. There was so much shame. The simple fact that she felt she had to be ashamed made his blood boil. "Do not be ashamed of anything." She shuffled about inelegantly, but didn't respond. How did he know? "You did nothing wrong."

"I should've known better. He has too much pride to just let me leave. I won't be safe anywhere for long." He tugged her hands to him and held them against his bare chest. She blushed and pulled them slightly from his grasp. He wouldn't let go.

"You'll be safe with me."

"You can't promise that."

"But I can."

"How?"

"I haven't figured that out yet, but I won't let you be hurt again. I don't care what I have to do. If your family won't be there for you, I'll be there. I'll be anything you need me to be."

"Even everything?" She snuck a look at him through her puffy, tearstained eyes. He kissed her hand certainly.

"Especially everything."

"Okay." She wasn't sure whether or not she believed him, or even if it was wise to believe him, but she did know that she was at a loss for anything else to hold onto. So, why not? The deafening silence in the room was stifling, so she broke it by moving away from him towards the bathroom. "I'm gonna go…to the bathroom. Excuse me."

"Yeah." He crossed his arms over his chest as the door shut and he was blanketed in darkness. His guilt elevated a dozen notches and he barely stopped himself from smashing the mirror over his dresser. That son of a bitch! It blew his mind how that bastard could batter her once and then turn around and do it twice. It confounded him truly how she could go back to him, knowing what he'd done to her before.

Of course, the Drs. Katz had said that often of him always returning home to his father. Why return to someone that will surely harm you again? Because, there are no other choices. It's that or nothing. And he would rather the pain, a hundred times again, over nothing at all. Not that he had all that much. He was by no means poor, but he was always wanting for something. He craved the unconditional affection that was supposed to accompany home; the warmth of open and welcoming arms; the proud approval of a loving dad. Anything other than the cold reception and dismissal his own father meted to him. Or worse, the violent attention he received from the back of his hand. Every blow was more inwardly crushing than the last. He placated himself with the hope that the next time, he'd be sorry or he'd hesitate even a moment before he made contact. John Bartlet Sr. never hesitated and he was never sorry. He was also never going to be as smart as his exceptional brothers or his wholly gifted son. He would always be just a step too slow to follow. Therefore, since he couldn't punish his brothers, he'd punish Jed in the hopes of somehow beating him to the point of mediocrity. Maybe then, he'd measure up.

There were times when the sharpness of the beatings were so acute that Jed considered bending to his father's will to be a little less idealistic, to conform a bit more, to simply to be silent when words were called for. Yet, when the moment came to show his newly minted mediocrity, his brilliance would shine through in the form of prose far above his father's level, but in the lexis of his audience. It would always come. He never knew how to not outshine the sun. It wasn't who he was. He was radiant. His radiance defined him as it did others' perceptions of him. He was good, as Abbey had said was her belief. But the rings of his life that marked him showed the harsh weathering of his father's defamations. He had survived them, but they had scarred him and would scar him until the time in which he genuinely broke away. He feared that he would never escape the man's ill-contempt and would forever be treading water in an impossible sea that washed only to a shore littered with more abuse of the same kind. Had his father never laid a hand on him, the name-calling alone would surely have crippled him were he born a lesser being.

He supposed, then, that he was born lucky. Jed gave the thought a minor wry chuckle as he tugged a grey t-shirt over his head. He rushed his fingers through his wily hair as the bathroom door opened and timid Abbey poked her head out. In the harsh hotel lights, her face seemed positively desecrated. He was stopped short when she stepped out and pulled nervously at the plaid shorts in an attempt to make them cover more of her. She tried in vain to hide the ghastly finger-shaped bruises that stamped her thighs.

If her stormy expression was any indication, he failed to keep heart-shattering disbelief off of his face. Her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed like the coming of a summer monsoon. "Don't you dare pity me, Jed Bartlet. Don't you dare! I don't need your pity…or your protection. I just need your help. That's all. Do you understand me?" He didn't take anything she said at that moment with more than a grain of salt, but he'd be damned if he'd be a victim of her wrath. It rivaled his father's in almost every way.

"I understand." She seemed to shrink following her rant, afraid that she had exercised her welcome and would be told to leave. He'd felt that way before. "You must be tired, and hungry. I don't have much to eat here, but if you can wait until morning we can go to the café down the street and get something. The weather's just so bad right now."

"Okay." She wouldn't argue. She was just glad to have somewhere to stay the night. She looked around for somewhere to sleep. There were two beds, but she was certain that one had to be for Johnny. "Where am I going to sleep?" He went to the bed nearest to the bathroom, which had been his, and straightened the disordered sheets.

"You can sleep here. It's closer to the bathroom. You know, in case you need to go during the night."

She thanked him graciously and sat down beside the turned down bedcovers. "But where will you sleep?" He patted the bed he was perched on across from her. "Here."

"What about Johnny? I can't put him out."

"You're not; he's staying with friends. I probably won't even see him again until it's time to go back to Manchester." She looked at him incredulously. "Yeah, we're not all that close, but we have moments." She pulled the covers up around her and turned on her side to look at him.

"Like what?" He hadn't expected her to want specifics, so he was caught off guard, but he pulled a memory out of the air and went along with it.

"Well, the trip here, for instance. We drove all the way from Manchester."

"You drove!" He nodded cheekily. "I can't believe you drove. It would've been so much easier to fly."

"Yeah, my father wouldn't pay for it."

"Well, why the hell not?"

"Because he didn't see the sense in paying for two round-trip tickets when there was a chance that only Johnny was coming back."

"Why is there a chance of that?" He slid under the covers on his bed.

"Well, I was using this trip as the time to decide whether I'd be returning to Manchester to attend Notre Dame and become priest or whether I'd be going on to the London School of Economics in England and studying to become an economist." She rested her head on her folded hands.

"Have you decided yet?" He thought about as he lay on his back and stared at the beige ceiling.

"No."

"May I ask why?"

"Honestly, it's becoming a muddier decision with every passing day. I've gone back and forth on it. I just don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It isn't your fault."

"Are you sure about that?" Jed didn't answer, but closed his eyes and feigned sleep. She knew better, but realized that maybe his silence was the best answer he could offer; maybe it was the best answer for both of them. She turned over and contrived sleep herself, though she was still conscious enough to hear him rise to tuck the covers more snugly around her shoulders and turn off the lights. Then she heard him, too, fall asleep, or at least pretend to fall asleep again. Soon, they both did drift away into dreams, neither particularly sweet, but both more peaceful than in recent memory. Morning seemed millennia away and precious night ruled their circumstance. They were calm; they were serene; they were at peace.

But just until morning.


	6. She Said Yes

By Regency

See part 1 for disclaimer

**Chapter 6**

Morning met Jed and Abbey glumly. It was still dim out and foggy. Dew hung in the air, wetting the dry and drenching the soaked. Jed was up and about unusually early with unheard caution. There was no tripping or knocking over of things while Abbey still managed to sleep restfully. He was dressed and coifed before he conjured up a big disturbance. She snapped awake with an alarmed scramble and promptly hit the ground with a thud. He hurried to her side and assisted her back onto the bed.

She looked around, disoriented and stared at Jed for a long while as she gathered her jumbled thoughts. He fidgeted under her distracted observation. He cleared his thoughts and rose to pace with his fists shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Her eyes followed him like the stem of a pendulum, back and forth. How ironic.

He tucked his errant bang away unconsciously and yawned voraciously at the early hour. He never got up this early. Abbey thoughtlessly admired his ability to be adorable even this soon after waking. Little did she know that she was a sight herself. Her bobbed hair had gone askew during the night and her face had taken on its usual first hour expression: bewilderment. The meant that her head was covered in ruined curls, her eyes were the size of large brussell sprouts, and her face looked like she'd been playing in her mother's makeup. Still, she was beautiful.

"You hungry?" She shrugged and stretched, comforted some by Jed's distant nearness. Security without suffocation. "I'm going to take that as a yes. If you don't want to put your clothes back on, you can wear one of my shirts and I guess my pants too." He looked her over with a quick eye. "You're a few sizes smaller than me, I think, but it could work if you wear a belt. You don't have a preference, do you?" He held up two pairs of pants. "Because we have jeans…and jeans. Or you can wear my slacks if you like, though I was planning on wear them to church. Anyway, doesn't matter. It's entirely up to you. I picked this red shirt for you. It's not my color, but I think it'll suit you just fine. So, here goes. I'll be…outside if you need me." They both knew sensibly that there was nowhere for him to go outside.

"You don't have to." But for some reason they both felt the need to make excuses.

"Yeah, you need your privacy. Besides, you need a toothbrush and toothpaste--Well, not that. I have that. But stuff like that."

"I have all that at the house."

"You're not ever going back to that house, Abbey. That man--no, that boy will kill you. No man would ever lay an unloving hand on a woman. Men don't do that, boys do." Abbey took up the clothes he'd laid out, nodding along with his declaration.

"I suppose that makes you a man then." Jed's face immediately turned beet red and he felt suddenly as though it was his father judging him now. He was just a boy trying to be a man and find out where he should go next. He had no right to dictate even to this woman, whose life seemed to have gone so far off the rails. He felt like nothing again.

With his silence, Abbey realized that she might have insulted him or worse, hurt his feelings. She was in no position to judge a man from a child since she obviously couldn't tell the difference. But, if she were ever asked, she would say that Jed Bartlet would always be a man in her eyes. He would never lay a violent hand on her.

"I didn't mean to sound like I was--like I was critiquing you. You're wonderful. You've been wonderful since I met you. I have nothing, but good things to say about you. Jed, you are a man. Do you know how many others would have taken advantage of me here? Or how many would've demanded something in return for their generosity? You not only protected me, but you went the extra mile just to help me. You're more than a man. You're a good man, Jed Bartlet. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. They're lying if they do. They're evil if they dare." Her tirade reaching its end, Abbey took a deep breath. "Now, shall we eat?"

Little more than dumbstruck, Jed nodded.

Half an hour later, Abbey was dressed in Jed's red shirt and a pair of his jeans belted to the last whole around her waist. She had them rolled up around her ankles. Still she seemed swamped in clothes. Moreover, she walked with a limp and winced at any sudden movement.

The café wasn't far down the street, but Jed was cautious of forcing Abbey to walk even that far. "We can take my car. I don't want you walking all that way."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Jed, I can walk. I need to walk. The more I walk, the sooner I can get used to the pain until it goes away."

"Will it go away?" Her eyes snapped back to him.

"What?"

"Will it go away?" She looked oddly perplexed. "I mean, are you sure that no permanent damage was done?" She shrugged. "Abbey. It's important to know that. If you need to go back to Dr. Katz, I can--"

She held up her hand to silence him. "Jed, I'm okay. I'm sore and tired and little bit hungry, but it will go away when I eat." Her eyes were shooting him subtle clues.

"Right. Let's go get something." He snapped up his car keys. "Come on, we're taking the car."

"Jeeeedddd." He smiled with his back to her.

"Yeah, I don't care. Come on." She sighed, but followed him anyway. He was so irritatingly concerned. Damn him.

But God bless him, too for caring because it didn't seem like anyone else did.

Abbey reverted to her more reserved self when they arrived at the diner. She stayed a little behind Jed so that no one could see her battered face. She even hid behind the menu, letting him order for her. When the waitress left, he gently tugged the menu away and sat it to the side.

"Why are you hiding?" She looked around, a little nervous. She was fully expecting Daniel to pop out at any moment and start to rape her again. She shuddered at the thought and gasped as the motion brought certain pains anew. God, she was truly trapped here. Jed was a good guy, but the good had a tendency to die young. And she was sure that Daniel would be the catalyst for such a fact. He would without a doubt kill her good guy. She wasn't sure she could live with that on her conscience.

"You shouldn't be around me." He looked up from his glass of water, seeming confused.

"What? Why?"

"Because, Daniel will come after me and he will kill anyone who gets in his way." She took his hands urgently. "Please try to understand. You have a future ahead of you and I don't want you to be hurt, or worse, killed."

"Why do you care?"

"Because you care, Jed. You care too much about someone you hardly even know. You don't know me or my life. You don't seem to get that caring what happens to me is dangerous. Please try to get that." This couldn't be happening to him. He was positive that this part definitely had to be a nightmare.

"I don't get that," he said softly. "I care about what's happening to you and you seem to keep hurting me." She swallowed her disgust at herself.

"That's what people of the world do, they hurt you. Look what's happened to me. My family is full of people of the world and all they," she had to stop to keep from crying. "All they do is hurt me. If that many people think I'm worth hurting, then I must be, right?"

He snorted. "No. You're wrong. That means that you're worth belittling because they know that you have the potential to be better than them. A thousand –no, a million times better." He laid a light hand on top of her folded ones. "You are beautiful and brilliant. You are Elizabeth Blackwell, you are Amelia Earhart, and you are Nelly Blye. You are every woman who ever had to fight to make history. You are Abigail Bart—Barrington and you will be in someone's history book. You will not stop. You won't be relegated to the woman who didn't have a name until her husband beat her to death after thirty years of abuse. You are so much better than that." She caught his Freudian slip, but didn't comment. She had to admit to being touched. She was touched. He had touched her.

"I'm just saying that you don't need to do all of this. It isn't warranted."

He gave her an incredulous look and reached up to touch her face. The motion was so sudden that she was expecting him to strike and she turned her head away to shield herself. With a careful hand, he turned her face back to look at him. He looked devastated.

"I will never, ever hit you. I will never strike you in anger or any emotion. You are a human being with a heart, with feelings, with love. I will never treat you like an animal." He traced the outline of the handprint on her cheek. "Someone who loves you unconditionally will never mark you this way. He branded you, Abbey. He didn't care who knew, because he could and would get away with it. Marks left in love can't be seen because they are on the soul or in places that shouldn't be shown in public." They both blushed. Jed regained his composure first. "Love shouldn't make you cry. Not any love worth living for. I won't let him take you down. That's what I'm saying and you'd better believe it. Not when there are so many other options to choose from."

"What options are those?" He shrugged uncomfortably. He had been thinking over the course of the last few days. "What are you thinking?"

"It's pretty out there, but I haven't been able to come up with anything else."

"Oh, good God. What have you come up with?" He smiled triumphantly. "Now, I'm scared."

"It's not that bad. It's just different." She leaned forward suspiciously. "Well, it's a little extreme."

"Come on."

"You'll think this is a desperate attempt at…something it isn't a desperate attempt at." She cocked her head so that she could see into his lowered eyes.

"Tell me, I won't judge."

"Marry me." She jumped back, pulling her hands away.

"What? I don't under--Why would you want me t-- What?" Her eyes were large and fearful as though she'd been seeing him wrong all this time.

"Please don't be frightened. I don't mean it that way."

"What way do you mean it exactly?" She was defensive, hiding herself against behind the table between them. _Oh, God. Not Jed, too._

"I wanna take you away from here, but I don't know where." She narrowed her eyes at him, naturally doubting his motives. "I would take you back to New Hampshire, but if and when you're reported missing…I could go to jail for kidnapping. And then, I might be going to London. I don't want to leave you here. That's why I want you with me. Just until you decide what to do. I don't want you wandering around with nowhere to be."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why shouldn't you? What do you have to lose?"

"My life."

"Do you honestly think I'd harm you, kill you?" His face had taken on a slightly panicked expression.

"No."

"I wouldn't." Jed could never hurt anything he'd come to hold as dear as she. She was this treasure he'd encountered in life. He would never hurt her if could avoid it.

"I believe you."

"You do?" She nodded and drank her ice water.

"Yeah. If you wanted to kill me or whatever it is lunatics do to their victims, you've had plenty of opportunity to do it before."

"Well, I feel bathed in your confidence, Abigail."

She smiled at him and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek gently. "You are kind. Thank you." She adjusted her napkin in her lap as their breakfast was set out before them. She munched on her toast and sipped hot chocolate. Jed chewed his eggs and bacon amongst scattered glances at her. She smiled to herself, knowing his nervousness.

Once she'd finished, she wiped her mouth and looked at him despondently pick at his food. She was most tempted to say that his intentions were a little more than that of a Good Samaritan, but his heart seemed to be in the right place.

"Yes."

He looked up at her confusedly. "Yes?" He was lost.

"Yes, I'll marry you." His jaw dropped.

"Hmmm." He blinked incoherently.

"Are you hard of hearing? I said, yes. Yes, I will be your wife." This conversation had all the romance of breakfast between strangers. How ironic.

"O - Okay." He was going to have to cut out the stuttering.

"Okay." She sipped her water and smirked discouragingly over her glass. He could do little more than choke over his. He had certainly met his match in Abigail. He questioned whether or not he was equal to the task, his own failures aside. He wasn't sure by any means, but he looked forward to finding out.

This was whole new life now. Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?


End file.
